


Something to be grateful for

by ineptshieldmaid



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Voyage of the dawn treader - Fandom
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dominance, Explicit Consent, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-06
Updated: 2011-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund and Caspian get some time alone. Let’s not kid around folks, this is porn. Don’t be fooled by the wordcount, it’s very long-winded <i>pooooorn</i>.</p><p>It is my policy not to use archive warnings for Narnia fic: please see additional tags and story notes for content disclosure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to be grateful for

**Author's Note:**

> I do not use the AO3’s archive warnings for Narnia fic, because it is my policy not to warn for underage sex. If you’re concerned about age in this fic (or any of my fic) please see [this post](http://ineptshieldmaid.dreamwidth.org/189551.html) for an explanation and advice.
> 
> See the endnote for particular details concerning this fic: [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/148727#work_endnotes).
> 
> \----------
> 
> This fic is presented with thanks to the following people: Trojie, for coaxing me (and the boys) through it; Timour, for being a positive influence and kick-starting my porn muse again; and the anonymouse who thinks they have the last word on what King Edmund would or would not do in bed for being... a negative influence, I suppose.

Edmund would say that Caspian was the most infuriating man he knew, but that would be a lie. Edmund knew Peter, after all; and the Professor could give even Peter a run for his money in the infuriating stakes when he put his mind to it.

What was quite true was that Caspian was the most infuriating man aboard ship right now. He was arrogant; rash; and not nearly as good with a sword as he thought he was.

Infuriating though he was, Caspian didn’t look at Edmund as if he were a child. He tried, sometimes, scruffing Edmund’s hair up as Susan had used to do when they were all still young the first time; but Caspian never quite hid the awe in his eyes, the way he handled Edmund as if Edmund were something precious which might vanish at any moment. It was strange, being an object of veneration. Did Peter and Lucy feel like this, all the time? Edmund had always felt like he and Susan melted into the background, and he’d never really minded it: but nor had he really thought about how his siblings must have felt, being the focus of the whole kingdom’s adulation.

Being venerated was better than being patronised, so Edmund couldn’t find it in himself to complain. The times he liked Caspian best, though, were the times when Caspian looked at him with undisguised _want_ , and then pushed him into a corner somewhere and kissed the daylights out of him. Firstly, this meant Edmund got kissed, and usually he got his legs wrapped around Caspian’s waist and got to bite Caspian’s lips and draw wonderful, ridiculous noises out of him. And secondly, it’s hard for someone to treat you like you’re an ancient artifact which might break easily if they’re hard and grinding desperately against you and begging you to get your hand into their pants and bring them off.

Edmund really liked bringing Caspian off. He would have liked more - would’ve liked to spread Caspian out and tease him, make him beg not just once or twice but over and over again; would’ve liked to tie him up to bedposts in one of their palaces and fuck him into the mattress. He’d have liked to suck Caspian off, or, even better, have Caspian suck him off. Unfortunately, the close confines of the Dawn Treader restricted them to the sort of dark-corner scufflings that Edmund could’ve had with his schoolmates, if he wanted.

When the first came ashore after the storm, Edmund’s first thought was that now, finally, he could sneak Caspian off somewhere out of sight and do _something_. Anything. He felt like he ought to have a list, some kind of priority out of all those hours spent in schoolrooms thinking _if only I could..._. There were all the things he’d done before, and a few things he’d always meant to do and never got around to, before he was flung back - twice! - to England and the company of schoolboys still dreaming of kissing girls and tittering to themselves at the thought of sex.

And then there was Caspian, and it wasn’t just about things Edmund used to know and couldn’t do in England. Caspian was infuriating, but he made Edmund laugh like no one else but Lucy had ever managed to make him laugh; and Caspian was rash but he was also noble, in all the ways Edmund had learned to value in Narnia but which felt silly at boarding school. Caspian had seen death and war and had felt Aslan’s breath on his face and he’d kissed Edmund on a tower-top the night they took back Miraz’s castle.

Furthermore, Caspian was really, insufferably attractive and Edmund wanted to drag him off somewhere, strip off all his clothes, and lick every inch of him.

Eustace’s disappearing act, and then his unfortunate draconian antics, kept both Edmund and Caspian occupied for the first night and second day ashore. The second night they were both assigned watches, Edmund early in the evening and Caspian the hours before dawn, and Lucy, with the best of intentions, hustled Caspian off and made him take to his bedroll during Edmund’s watch, and then repeated the process on Edmund as soon as he was relieved of his duty. Edmund loved his little sister, really he did, but sometimes she was worse than a prefect. At least there was a faint chance of prefects letting you suck them off in the bathrooms: this was obviously out of the question with Lucy. Even if she hadn’t been his sister, Edmund had decided a lifetime ago that girls were Peter’s thing, and Peter was welcome to them.

The third night, Edmund looked up from his dinner and Caspian was _looking_ at him, like he wanted to eat him. Dear god, Edmund wanted him to. He wanted Caspian naked, wanted to touch him everywhere, and he really, really wanted Caspian’s mouth on his cock. His cock for _starters_.

Edmund looked back down at his dinner and proceeded to slowly work his way through the slices of spit-roast mutton on his plate. Every so often he’d look up and there was Caspian, sometimes looking down at his own meal, skin faintly flushed in the firelight. Mostly, he was looking at Edmund like he wanted to leap over the fire and pin Edmund to the ground in front of everyone. Which would be most indiscreet. But as a sentiment, it was quite attractive.

He debated stringing this out for longer: maybe looking straight at Caspian while he licked the mutton juice off his fingers, watching Caspian’s eyes go wide with undisguised lust... and then engaging Drinian in a detailed conversation about astronomy or some such, making Caspian wait for it. That’s what Susan would have done, a lifetime ago; Peter preferred much showier flirtations; Lucy didn’t flirt at all, and Edmund... well, Edmund generally liked his liaisons straightforward: varied in the bedroom, and simple out of it. This ridiculousness with Caspian, all the fooling around below decks and up against the ship’s rail, this was already much more messing about than he was used to.

The play-fighting and the sitting up swapping stories and the making each other laugh, that was also more... something. More than he was used to, and more than he’d ever sought from a bedmate. There had been reasons for that, once.

This was a dangerous line of thought, and Edmund decided that teasing Caspian would have to wait for another night. He went to wash his plate and fork, and when Caspian came up behind him, let his shoulder brush up against Caspian’s arm.

‘Edmund...’ Caspian said, voice low.

Edmund tried to think of something appropriately seductive to say, and all he managed was ‘yeah.’

That was apparently sufficient, because ten minutes later Caspian had caught up with him among the trees, and it was only a matter of moments between Caspian’s hand falling on his shoulder and Edmund’s back up against the nearest tree, and then they were kissing and biting and scrabbling feverishly at one another’s clothing.

Edmund managed to yank both Caspian’s tunic and his own off, and Caspian’s shirt as well. Then Caspian bore Edmund down to the ground, pressing into him and kissing him and kissing him until they were both dizzy and Edmund was pushing upwards desperately with his hips. Caspian had both of Edmund’s hands pinned to the ground above his head, and Edmund had never particularly liked being held down, but he could come to appreciate it, if it meant more of Caspian and more of nakedness and just... more.

Which was about the point that Edmund realised he was perilously close to coming, and the frantic stutter of Caspian’s hips against him said that Caspian wasn’t too far behind him. There were many disadvantages to being a youth again, and coming embarrassingly early was evidently one of them.

‘No, wait,’ he said, and he couldn’t get his hands free of Caspian’s grip, but he could get one knee under Caspian’s leg and use that to lever him off. Caspian made a sort of protesting noise and resisted him for a moment, then scrambled back all of a sudden, letting Edmund’s wrists go at the same time.

‘Edmund, my -’ and Edmund could hear the bitten-off _my lord_ , although Caspian didn’t say it aloud. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t...’ Caspian pulled his hands back and clenched them tight in his own lap, so that the only place he was touching Edmund was with one knee where it pressed against Edmund’s leg. ‘I have been too forward,’ he said, and Edmund considered punching him. Did he think Edmund hadn’t _seen_ the way Caspian was looking at him? And, for that matter, what about this was more forward than _Edmund, Edmund, touch me, please, I have to -_ while crammed up against a bulkhead on board ship?

‘Snow and ice, Caspian,’ Edmund grouched. ‘Stop apologising. I just... I don’t want to come like this.’ Sitting up, he tangled one hand in Caspian’s mop of blond curls, and tugged him forward into another kiss, slower and more deliberate this time. Caspian opened up to him, letting Edmund control the kiss, and making lovely, needy noises when Edmund licked into his mouth.

‘How do you...’ Caspian pulled away after a few moments, just enough to rest his forehead against Edmund’s. ‘Do you want to take me?’

Stars above, did Edmund want it. He needed to say something, but it was imperative that he lunge in and kiss Caspian again, hard and rough and - ‘No,’ he managed, between kisses. ‘No, I can’t...’

‘I assure you,’ Caspian said, drawing back far enough to slide Edmund’s shirt off his shoulders. ‘Edmund, I - I don’t mind, I want...’ He was running his hands all over Edmund’s back, drawing his nails over the skin, not hard enough to scratch but enough to send shivery sensations down Edmund’s spine. ‘It would be an honour,’ Caspian breathed, mouthing at Edmund’s neck. ‘For you.’

Buggering hell, so this was how it was going to go. Some of the Archenlanders had been like this, in their day - all tied up in who did what to whom.

‘Not the point,’ he said, and took this opportunity to slip one hand under Caspian’s waistband, palming the smooth skin of his arse and allowing himself a few wistful thoughts about getting Caspian on his knees and driving into said arse. ‘I didn’t bring anything, any sort of oil, did you?’

‘Uhhm,’ Caspian said, wriggling back against Edmund’s hand. ‘No.’ Untying the laces of Caspian’s breeches with his free hand, Edmund slid his fingers lower, into the crease of Caspian’s arse. He was just teasing, just with the dry pads of his fingers, but Caspian shuddered and bit down into Edmund’s shoulder.

‘Are you sure you don’t want...’ Caspian said, which Edmund took to mean _actually, I would really quite like..._. Edmund leaned in and kissed him again, and then again, and then stripped Caspian out of his trousers.

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Edmund said. ‘Trust me, please,’ he added, mouthing along Caspian’s collarbone. ‘I can make this good, I promise.’ He had his hands _everywhere_ now, all over Caspian, and it was so good, so good to have his hands on someone else again. It had been... two years, or more than twelve hundred, or just twelve, depending on which way you counted it - by English time or by Narnian or by years he’d yet to live.

They were kneeling in the dirt, pressed up against each other, Caspian’s hands pulling Edmund into him by the waist. Caspian’s body was warm and solid, and his chest had the heavy musculature of a man who could joust as well as fence. _I always did like jousters_ , Edmund thought, a little dizzily, as he bent a little to tease at Caspian’s nipple with his tongue.

‘Edmund,’ Caspian said, softly, and tilted Edmund’s face up by the chin. ‘Edmund. What do you want?’

Edmund stilled for a moment, palms resting against Caspian’s chest. The question seemed... enormous. Endless. ‘You,’ he said. ‘I want you.’

Caspian’s thumb grazed along his cheek, and he turned his head just far enough to suck the pad of it between his lips, drawing a low, shocked sound from Caspian. Edmund still had his breeches on, but he could feel Caspian hard against him, and Caspian’s breath came quick and ragged, his chest rising and falling under Edmund’s hands.

‘Tell me what to do.’ It was dark enough that Edmund couldn’t make out Caspian’s expression, but Caspian looked down anyway. ‘Edmund, please, I... you have to tell me what you want from me, if not...’

Edmund flicked his tongue along Caspian’s thumb again, felt Caspian quiver against him. He knew what King Edmund would do here: spread Caspian out on the ground and tease him, teach him how wrong he is for thinking that Edmund is here to _take_ something form him.

But then, ‘Please,’ Caspian said again. ‘What do you want me to do?’ And Edmund couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d been _offered_ something like that.

‘Your mouth,’ he said, and it came tumbling out in a rush. ‘Your mouth, god, Caspian, I want it. I want it everywhere, on my cock, I want...’ Caspian’s hands went at once for the laces of Edmund’s breeches. ‘Caspian, oh, buggering hell, _thank you_ ,’ Edmund babbled, as Caspian got his pants open far enough to wrap one hand around Edmund’s cock.

‘Shut up.’ Caspian pushed Edmund gently backwards. ‘Let me get your pants off,’ Caspian added, and removed his hand from Edmund entirely in order to do exactly that. Breeches off, Edmund ended up half-sitting, half sprawling against the bole of a nearby tree. Caspian knelt down between Edmund’s thighs, hands warm and steady against his hips, and just _looked_ , staring down at him in the dim-half light.

Then he bent down and began pressing soft kisses against Edmund’s stomach. ‘Tell me again,’ Caspian said, low and hoarse, breath ghosting across Edmund’s skin. ‘Tell me again, I want to hear it.’

Well. ‘I want your mouth on my cock, Caspian,’ Edmund said, in his best court voice, the one which meant Let’s Pretend I’m Not Giving You An Order, Even Though I Am. Apparently Caspian recognised it, because his fingers dug sharply into Edmund’s side, and then he had his lips wrapped around Edmund’s cock, and _oh_ , it was almost too good.

Caspian wasn’t used to this, Edmund realised, perhaps a little too late. He was enthusiastic, certainly, but not practiced at it. On the other hand, the little rumble of pleasure in the back of Caspian’s throat did unbearable things to Edmund. He tried to push up into Caspian’s mouth, but the heavy weight of Caspian’s hands held him down - evidently Caspian knew enough to want to prevent himself from gagging.

Edmund tangled his fingers in Caspian’s hair and made encouraging noises, ‘yes, please’ and ‘that’s right’ and ‘you’re doing so well’’, noting as Caspian adjusted his position, getting used to the weight of Edmund’s cock in his mouth. Caspian worked him over with his tongue, searching for, and finding - ‘oh, there, _yes_ ’ - the sensitive spots, and then settled down into a proper rhythm. Not practiced, but evidently a natural talent, Edmund thought, trying desperately to keep his head together. Caspian was enjoying this, which was good; but Edmund wanted to watch him, needed to know that he’d notice when Caspian started to tire, needed to say the right things, to make sure that this was something Caspian would remember.

Edmund’s legs were starting to quiver, and there was a tight knot of need coiling in his gut - soon he would have to tell Caspian, have to give him the chance to pull away...

And then Caspian did, suddenly, and Edmund bit back a cry of frustration.

‘Stop _thinking_ ,’ Caspian hissed up at him.

‘What?’ Edmund was so hard it almost hurt, and Caspian was just inches away from his cock, and Caspian wanted him to... stop thinking?

‘I can hear you thinking,’ Caspian said, and wrapped his hand around Edmund’s cock again, just enough pressure that Edmund shuddered and pushed up against him. ‘By the Lion, Edmund, I want this as much as you do, I promise you. Now will you, please, tell me what you want and then stop worrying about it?’

‘Fuck, yes, fine, I want your mouth, I want to come in your mouth, Caspian, is that alright by you?’

He was expecting a _yes_ , or maybe a _no_ , and then they could get on with this, mouth or hands, at this point it didn’t really matter. What he got was ‘Is that all you want?’

For a moment, Edmund was frozen, the frantic list of unsorted _wants_ , of daydream after daydream tumbling through his head, but it came back to this, in the end. He closed his eyes for a moment, and banished from his mind the rules of England, the you-can’ts and you-mustn’ts and nice-boys-don’ts; and with it he sent the concerns of kingship, the knowledge that everyone wanted something from him and that power brought you privileges you shouldn't exercise.

‘I want you to suck me,’ Edmund said, and pulled Caspian’s head back a little, by the hair. ‘I want you to suck my cock, like you were doing. You have no idea how good that feels, Caspian, it’s been so long...’ He laid his thumb against Caspian’s mouth, and Caspian copied Edmund’s own earlier actions, sucking it into his mouth and licking it over and over again. Every stroke of Caspian’s tongue made Edmund’s cock ache and little shivers run down his spine.

‘And then, um. Caspian, I don’t want to come in your mouth yet, can you do that? Can you suck me until I’m almost there but not close enough?’

‘Yes,’ Caspian breathed, against Edmund’s hand. ‘Yes, yes I can do that. What then?’ The clench of Edmund’s fingers in Caspian’s hair was probably tight enough to hurt, but Caspian gave no sign of caring, just flicked out his tongue again, tracing patterns on Edmund’s palm.

‘Suck my balls.’ Edmund could hear his own voice, rough and awed. ‘Lick them, suck them, just...’ Edmund could feel Caspian’s jaw working as he swallowed, and for a moment he thought he’d gone too far.

‘I don’t know...’ Caspian began, and then re-started. ‘Yes, yes, if you want me to, _yes_ , but... I’ve never.’ He paused, again. ‘You have to tell me how you want it.’

‘I can do that,’ Edmund said, shakily, and pulled Caspian up to kiss him. Caspian kissed back fiercely, sloppily, all tongue and teeth and hands everywhere. He was hard, too, and Edmund wriggled around so that Caspian could straddle him properly and grind down into him. For a moment he thought Caspian might come like that, rubbing himself off on Edmund’s stomach. Which would be fine, as long as Edmund didn’t come himself in the process. Edmund leaned back far enough to get one hand between them, trailing over the fluttering muscles of Caspian’s abdomen and down to close around Caspian’s cock.

Caspian convulsed, a whole-body tremor which must have been just shy of coming, and then reached down to knock Edmund’s hand away.

‘Later,’ he grit out, and then he was wriggling back, just far enough to lean down and take Edmund in his mouth again.

Edmund tried to remember if he’d ever met anyone as enthusiastic as this, anyone quite so eager to find what Edmund wanted and give it to him. Maybe, but that was a long time ago and Caspian was right here, sucking Edmund off like it was his only mission in life.

‘Fuck, Caspian.’ He let his head fall back against the tree behind him, and gave up on his efforts to keep his hips still, letting Caspian hold him down while he writhed. ‘You’re, fuck, that’s good, you’re amazing, _fuck_.’

Caspian pulled back again, and this time Edmund let out a low whine of disappointment.

‘Stop it,’ Caspian said, quietly, but as a command. ‘I don’t want you to tell me how good I am. Tell me what you want me to do.’

‘Sorry.’ Edmund’s chest was heaving and he was beginning to regret his big ideas. He could tell Caspian he wanted to come now, and then he _could_ , and he wanted to come so much, almost as much as he didn’t, not yet.

‘Please,’ he said, instead. ‘Suck my balls, please, I... I really like the feeling, it’s...’

‘Does it bring you off?’ Caspian asked, leaning down to press closed-mouthed kisses to Edmund’s cock. He sounded genuinely curious.

‘No,’ Edmund said, and then Caspian leaned down and pressed his lips to Edmund’s balls, mouthing at them but not quite taking them into his mouth. Edmund’s eyes rolled back in his head and he bucked upward, into the firm hands which Caspian had already replaced on his hips. ‘Not usually,’’ he amended, and then Caspian slid his mouth properly over them, sucking and toying with them with his tongue. Edmund made an undignified sort of yelp. ‘Keep doing that,’ he said, and was rewarded with a happy little hum from Caspian. ‘Keep doing that, oh, it’s wonderful, I’ll try it on you sometime.’ He was babbling now and he knew it, coming back from the brink of orgasm and yet staying lightheaded and dizzy with what Caspian was doing to him. ‘Just keep doing that,’ Edmund murmured, and kept it up, a litany of ‘do that, no, not so hard, yes, like that’ until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

‘Enough,’ he said, and then, ‘thank you.’

‘Stop saying that,’ Caspian murmured, nuzzling into Edmund’s thigh, kissing the skin there until it tingled. Edmund shifted a little, raising one knee and spreading his legs wider. Caspian took that as the invitation it was, kissing his way into the crease of one thigh and then the other. Edmund had his hand around his own cock, stroking himself lazily, and he could easily come like that - forget about being sucked, just let himself go in Caspian’s gentle caress and his own comfortable grip.

‘You’re really good with your mouth,’ Edmund said, dazed and wrung out..

‘Mmmhmm,’ Caspian said, rumbly against Edmund’s skin. ‘What do you want me to do with it, then?’

‘I...’ Asking had only got him good things, lately, hadn’t it? ‘I changed my mind,’ he said, curling his free hand around the back of Caspian’s neck - not pulling or pushing, just resting against the nape. ‘I can come in your mouth another time, Caspian, please... just... do what you were doing earlier, but to my arse, please.’ He drew his own knees up, and Caspian ran his hands gently up the insides of his thighs, pushing them further back and further apart.

‘You’ve done this before?’ Caspian asked, sounding doubtful, but not unwilling.

‘Yes.’ Which was true, although in perfect honesty Edmund wasn’t normally on the receiving end when it came to this. ‘You really should make friends with Bacchus,’ he added, and Caspian huffed a laugh which tickled deliciously across the damp skin of Edmund’s balls. ‘I expect he’s no less interesting now than he was when I knew him.’

‘I’m afraid I turned down his advances,’ Caspian admitted. ‘I was young, and...’ he hesitated a moment. ‘I was afraid.’

‘Are you still afraid?’ Edmund asked him, gently carding his fingers through Caspian’s hair.

‘Not of you,’ Caspian answered, and possibly to prove this point, he slid his hands under Edmund’s buttocks, lifting him up toward his mouth.

‘That’s a start,’ Edmund said, frantically combing through his memories for the last time he did this, trying to find the right instructions to give. ‘Start with licking,’ he said, low and raspy. ‘Just licking, around - _yes_.’ Edmund had to take his hand away from Caspian, curl it back over his head for balance so that he could push himself forward into Caspian’s mouth. ‘I, oh, yes, that’s perfect,’ he babbled, and then, stilling the hand on his cock for a moment so as to gather his wits. ‘I can’t - I can’t keep talking you through this, fuck, Caspian, I’m too close, just keep doing that.’

Caspian’s only response was to haul him closer, and then Edmund lost track of exactly what was being done to him. There were Caspian’s lips and tongue, hot and wet and wonderful, and it only took a few swift hard jerks with the hand on his cock before his eyes were rolling up in his head and he was shuddering, shaking, letting Caspian hold him up by the hips.

Caspian kept going right through Edmund’s climax, with slow, broad strokes of his tongue, and then the tip of it slipping inside with the last aftershocks. He hesitated there, but Edmund gasped out ‘No, keep going,’ a desperate, needy plea. Caspian kept going, and Edmund kept pushing up into his mouth, making ragged little noises as he did.

Eventually his arms or Caspian’s were going to give out, though. ‘Hold up,’ he said, and Caspian drew away a little. ‘Let me go,’ Edmund coaxed, when Caspian didn’t relax his grip on Edmund’s hips. ‘Just for a moment.’

Caspian let him go, and Edmund turned over onto his knees, resting his arms on the raised tree root behind him.

‘Oh _yes_ ,’ Caspian moaned, as soon as he saw what Edmund was doing. He knelt behind Edmund, running his hands over Edmund’s arse, and then leaned down to press soft kisses all over Edmund’s buttocks. He was a bloody tease, it was all too little. After having had Caspian’s mouth on his cock and Caspian’s tongue _in his arse_ , kisses and teasing nips weren’t enough for Edmund, not enough by far.

‘Ahh, yes, _harder_ ,’ he gasped, when Caspian nipped at the tender spot between buttock and thigh. ‘Caspian, do that again.’ Caspian took to this task with great enthusiasm, peppering Edmund’s arse with little bites, hard enough to sting, but probably not hard enough to leave a mark. _Probably_. Sucking the fleshy parts into his mouth and then biting down on them, that would leave both teethmarks and bruises, but at this point, Edmund wasn’t about to care. He dropped his head to his arms and shivered and twitched under Caspian’s ministrations, hoping that the incoherent stream of words coming out of his mouth was enough to encourage Caspian onwards.

Evidently it was, because after a while, once Edmund’s buttocks were pleasantly tingling all over, Caspian turned his attention back to the crease of Edmund’s arse. He spread cheeks wide and dragging his tongue upwards from Edmund’s balls right to his tailbone in one sweep, then worked his way back down, making little back-and-forth movements with the tip of his tongue. Edmund gave himself over to it, to the hot shivery feeling which was nearly as good as the feeling of having Caspian’s undivided attention, for as long as he wanted it.

‘Try your finger,’ Edmund suggested, at some point when he could scrape together the breath to say it.

Caspian went still. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’ Turning his head, Edmund reached around for Caspian’s hand, and sucked two of Caspian’s fingers between his lips. This served the dual purpose of getting them nice and wet, and drawing a deep, wanting moan from Caspian.

‘I have done this before,’ Edmund reminded him, when Caspian pressed the tip of his finger to Edmund’s arse and hesitated again. This was, strictly speaking, true, but _before_ was a whole lifetime ago, and Edmund had had neither the privacy nor the inclination to pleasure himself with his own fingers like this in England: it just wasn’t the same. ‘I can’t take more than fingers, not without oil, but I want your fingers inside me. Caspian, please.’

‘ _Edmund_ ,’ Caspian choked, pressing his lips to the base of Edmund’s spine as he worked one finger slowly inside. Edmund had expected it to hurt - to be good, but to hurt, like it had the first time, because this was a sort of first time, too; but the first time he hadn’t had Caspian’s tongue in his arse first, and this was _perfect_ , slick with spit from both of them, tight but not too tight, and wonderful. Somehow, though what he wanted to do was close his eyes and just let Caspian work him over, Edmund found the breath and the coherence to talk Caspian through it: slowly, slowly at first; now deeper; now two fingers, and even more slowly; and crook them there, just like _that_. It was too dry for him to fuck himself back onto Caspian’s fingers, but they set up a rhythm, Caspian pressing over and over again into just the right spot, until Edmund’s awareness narrowed down to that one point and he felt like his spine might actually melt.

A low moan from Caspian brought Edmund back to himself, and he realised he couldn’t feel Caspian’s other hand anymore. He craned his head around, but the angle was all wrong and he couldn’t see far enough in the dark anyway. The sound was clear enough, the soft _shlup, shlup_ of fingers on overheated skin.

‘Caspian, are you -’ he stopped, because of course Caspian was, Caspian had been on the edge of coming before they even took their pants off, just the same as Edmund. And that thought brought to Edmund’s attention the fact that he himself was hard again, through some miraculous combination of youthful energy on his own part and Caspian’s brilliant hands and wonderful, wonderful mouth. ‘Oh, buggering hell, Caspian, come here, I want to kiss you.’

‘Edmund, please...’ Caspian slid his fingers out of Edmund’s body, leaving him empty and aching.

‘Caspian, if I move right now I’ll fall down,’ Edmund said. ‘So please, come here and kiss me.’ There was a bit of scrambling on Caspian’s part, and a bit of twisting on Edmund’s part, and then a messy, feverish meeting of mouths. Caspian, who’d had to use one hand to brace himself by Edmund’s head, wrapped the other around the back of Edmund’s neck, and made do by rutting against Edmund’s hip, which was... actually really quite arousing, Edmund thought, leaning into him to give him better friction.

‘Caspian?’

‘Mmm?’ Caspian mumbled, into Edmund’s mouth.

‘What do _you_ want?’

‘Honestly, Edmund?’ Caspian drew back a little, stilling his hips with some effort. ‘I need to come, and I don’t really care how.’

Edmund had to lunge forward and kiss him for that, hard and hungry and with too much teeth. Caspian whined into his mouth, a refrain which began with ‘please, Edmund, please’ and devolved into incoherent, pleading sounds.

After a moment, Edmund disentangled himself and straightened up, the watery feeling induced by Caspian’s mouth and hands having dissipated a little.

‘Come here.’ He reached around behind himself and pulled Caspian’s wrist until Caspian was pressed up against Edmund from behind, making small helpless movements against his arse. Caspian mouthed at Edmund’s ear, and Edmund palmed himself frantically, painfully aroused and well aware that Caspian was in a far more dire state.

‘Wait, Caspian, just a moment,’ he said. ‘Have you ever done this before?’

‘Done what?’ Caspian drew his mouth away from Edmund’s ear and neck, but was apparently unable to stop the stutter of his hips against Edmund’s.

‘Between another man’s legs.’ Edmund swiped a hand through the mess on his stomach, cooling but still sticky, and reached behind himself, smearing Caspian’s cock with it and guiding him into the crease of Edmund’s thighs.

‘No,’ Caspian managed, already thrusting forward. ‘No, I haven’t, oh, _Edmund_...’

‘Hold onto my hips,’ Edmund instructed him. ‘And don’t worry about me, you can’t hurt me like this.’

Caspian took hold of him, and Edmund matched himself to Caspian’s pace, tightening the grip of his thighs as Caspian pulled back and relaxing a little as he thrust in. They only had a few moments before Caspian bit down on Edmund’s shoulder, hips pushing down hard into Edmund’s arse, and came, all down the insides of Edmund’s thighs.

 _That_ , Edmund thought vaguely, _is going to take some cleaning up_. And then Caspian wrapped one arm around Edmund’s middle, pulling him upright against Caspian’s body. One hand he laced with Edmund’s fingers, around Edmund’s cock, and the other he used to brace Edmund’s chest as Edmund craned around to kiss him. A few strokes, a messy, inelegant kiss, and Edmund shook apart in Caspian’s arms.

They collapsed together in a sticky heap on the ground, Caspian rolling them so that Edmund sprawled half on top of him.

‘Edmund,’ Caspian said, breaking the silence after a while.

‘Mmm?’ Edmund nuzzled into Caspian’s shoulder, and tried not to think about the fact that they ought to be cleaning up and getting dressed, before their crewmates decided to come searching for them.

‘Thank you.’ Caspian pressed his lips to Edmund’s temple.

Edmund elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Stop that. You just told me to stop saying that.’

Caspian chuckled, a deep, warm sound. ‘I did, didn’t I? But thank you, anyway. I am... honoured.’

Edmund wriggled around so that he could kiss Caspian on the lips, long and slow. ‘So am I. We can be grateful together?’

‘Absolutely,’ Caspian agreed, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Content note concerning age: please be aware that there is a slight age-related power disparity: Edmund has a good ten years more sexual experience than Caspian, and he is taking on a tutulary role here.


End file.
